Good Advice
by YelyahFran
Summary: It terrifies her that she wants to put everything she is in somebody else's hands; but some good advice (mixed with a bit of circumstance) might just be enough force to get her where she needs to be.
1. Surprise, Surprise

**Writing this purely because there are Quintis ideas stuck in my head. Not entirely happy (get the joke?) with this so far but I plan to make up for it since this will be four parts long. Now, onto the usual.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Scorpion or these lovely characters in any way, shape or form.**

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A common misconception was that she was the destroyer, a harbinger of destruction itself. She found pleasure in smashing things and taking out her anger on them. Even the rest of the cyclone saw this in her and considered her their muscle. She was the scorpion with the deadliest and most poisonous venom.

Although, she always considered herself to be quite the opposite. She knew that she was the innovator that they all needed, regardless of her taking part in destruction. She took scrap in her hands and made them into the most amazing machines that the human mind could imagine, let alone comprehend.

She considered everyone else around her to be the destroyers and that was when she found the need to build something aside from her machines: her walls. The only thing in the world that she could depend on was the fact that people would eventually end up hurting her, thus the need for pre-emptive actions.

Yet as she stared down at the rest of the cyclone from the balcony, she could not help but question her need to keep them. It wasn't as if she didn't get hurt around them because she sure as hell did get hurt by certain things that they did; but to some extent, she felt as if she could handle it.

"What are you up to?"

And then there was him. He made it oh so tempting to just relinquish her armour and tell him about how tired she was. She was sick of being thrown away like a discarded toy and he made her feel like saying, "No, this time is different."

Yet, he had hurt her all the same. Even though they both knew that it wasn't his fault, she couldn't help but be terrified of what he could do if she shared her burden with him. What he had done was a stark reminder that he could drop it right back on her. She couldn't—wouldn't let it happen.

"I take a break from work too, you know. Sometimes, I like to watch you guys from here," She said with a shrug and turned to look at him. It seemed almost endearing to her that she could turn the fedora wearing genius into mush. "Just to remember how beautiful machines are supposed to work."

He let out a small gasp. "Now, Happy Quinn," His face was in faux shock as he placed a hand on his chest. "Was that a poetic answer or did my ears fail me?"

"Shut up." She said without malice and they smiled at one another for a moment. She looked back down and she felt him admire her with his eyes. It took all her willpower to remind herself that whatever they both felt was an effect of the dopamine their bodies produced. It was very Walter of her but it didn't really matter.

"Look at them," He pointed to Paige and Walter and he had to lean a bit towards her to keep his voice quiet. She could swear that his fingers experimentally brushed the small of her back. Normally, she would have hit him with a wrench for it; but it seemed okay for once. "Dancing around each other like a couple of ballerinas."

"Read them for me." The words escaped her lips before she could bite her tongue.

"What?"

"Just do it, Doc."

She couldn't find it in herself to tell him that she watched him work too. She refused to admit that she took pleasure in his work. All she did was nudge him with her shoulder and that seemed to be enough to urge him.

"Well," He began, running a hand over his face then putting both his hands together to set his chin on top of his middle fingers. "Do you see the shirt that Walter's wearing?"

"Answer your own question, numb nuts." He rolled his eyes at her. "What's your point?"

"It's red; he's subconsciously trying to catch her attention. I highly doubt that Walter would let himself legitimately plan his outfit choices according to his whole Paige dilemma. Now that that's over, let's move on to the coffee."

"I thought we were past the whole cinnamon thing."

He shook his head, obviously getting a bit more into his work… or play, for that matter. He was enjoying himself and she couldn't help herself from finding it hot. It killed her slowly, like bacteria eating away at her flesh, but she didn't want him to stop. She bit her lip and let him go on.

"There's almond milk in the fridge." He told her and she watched Paige drink from the blue coffee cup that she had deemed to be her own. "She mentioned an article to him the other day about how almond milk is so much healthier than full cream milk. We both know—"

"Walter would never buy into that stuff unless it came from her."

"Exactly."

He reminded her of a child on Christmas morning so she continued to indulge him. "Okay Doc, what's next?"

"He keeps checking his watch," He pointed out to her and he smiled a bit, as if this little tidbit changed the world. "Then looking at her. There's this timer in his head, telling him when to talk to her. If you're going to ask about her, she's an easy read. The tucking of the hair behind the ear is a damn clear signal that she wants to be approached by him."

There was a silence as Paige tucked her hair behind her ear before Walter approached her. Toby took a bow and she raised an eyebrow at him as he held out his hat for tips. She knocked it straight out of his hands and it landed on the couch, causing him to frown slightly. The very sight was enough to make her chuckle.

Her eyes darted to the dollhouse on the table, posing the question that she didn't even need to open her mouth to ask. He nodded and it filled her with contentment to know that even if the subject of them ever being together was too terrifying to approach, they had gotten back the friendship that she valued so highly.

Before they had even begun working on their side project, however, the front door to the Garage opened. She could almost feel the moment when all heads turned to the person they all assumed to be their next client. They both returned to the railing and she heard his sharp intake of breath as he looked down.

"How may I help you?" Walter asked the woman standing in the center of the hustle and bustle of their everyday lives. She observed the woman's tall figure, in spite of the heels, and flowing ginger hair in perfect contrast to her turquoise coat.

She was just about to ask Toby to read the woman for her when she said, "I'm looking for Toby Curtis."

It was the first time she had ever seen Toby rush down the stairs so quickly and she was almost worried that he would fall over. She followed after him shortly and proceeded to her workbench, the perfect view for whatever was about to happen next.

"What are you doing here?"

The question was said without much anger but there is a certain edge to it that he can't keep out. The woman shifted her weight onto her other foot, as if the entire situation made her feel incredibly uncomfortable. It wasn't the type of uncomfortable that he usually made women feel and it made her wonder.

"I know it's been a while but—"

"Try a year and ten months."

That's when it hit Happy straight in the face. It was no ordinary woman that he was speaking to; this was the faceless Belle, the woman that he had proposed to after six months of dating. She remembered being incredibly skeptical, stating that that amount of time wasn't nearly enough.

She had stopped pushing because she could see how incredibly in love he had been with her. It had been the time wherein neither of them were emotionally invested in each other so she had let it happen. Regardless of the grief their romantic entanglements had caused, however, she was grateful their wedding didn't push through.

Belle began with a deep breath and stared Toby right in the eyes, leaving him completely bare. His posture became less rigid and she watched him swallow. "I know that you probably harbor a lot of resentment towards me over what happened between us and I accept that; but I came here on my own terms and I want to speak to you."

"Don't do it."

She never said it out loud but the thought was implanted in her head. She remembered what had happened to him, how he was in complete ruins when Belle had left. All she wanted was for her to disappear so that she could never hurt him again.

It was so hypocritical of her to want to protect him, especially after all the time they had spent hurting one another; but none of it mattered in that moment. There was nothing she could do but stand there and wait with bated breath for his response.

"Let's go to the café across the street, we'll talk there."

How did he always manage to hurt her without meaning to? It felt like someone had punched her in the gut and the wind had gotten knocked straight out of her. She wanted to throw the heaviest wrench within grabbing distance at them as they walked out the door together.

But there was nothing she could do.

After all, she was the second woman he'd ever fallen in love with.


	2. Lapse in Judgement

**I forgot to tell you guys that I am also writing this thing due to the fact that I really want to see Toby's ex-fiancee and have Happy get all weird about it. IT IS THE SUBPLOT THAT I FEEL THIS SHOW NEEDS. Also, I apologise if this does not to live up to anyone's expectations whoops. I personally like where this is going, but hey, I'm not you. I just feel that there needs to be more Quintis fanfiction.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Scorpion or the characters in any way, shape or form.**

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He was the only one left behind when she resorted to smashing iron on her anvil. Her face was slightly contorted, telling him that it was an emotional response to the things that had happened around her. He tried to recall an instance that day where he'd managed to monumentally piss her off. When nothing came to mind, he wished whoever it is a bit of nonexistent luck.

Her hair was pulled back so he could see how the dim lights brought out her features just right. He admired her full cheeks and the way the fire in her dark brown eyes danced as she focused on her work. He recalled the way those some arms had felt under his hands when she'd kissed him. They were admittedly stronger than his own but he liked the unsure gentleness that she had.

"I'm not a mind reader you know." He joked half-heartedly, trying to gauge her mood. There was a slight pause before she hit the iron once more and he casually took a swig from the bottle of beer in his hand. She seemed to be more thoughtful than pissed off at second glance. "Tell the good doctor what's on your mind."

Bang.

He saw the slight shaking, as if preparing to speak to him at long last. A sigh escaped her lips with perfect precision and the words floated around between them, defying whatever science has told us all about the speed of sound.

"I'm bad at the whole talking thing, Doc," She told him, her voice only loud enough for him to hear. She felt bare in front of him and she resented it. She shoved it all down and swallowed. "So if I'm going to say it straight, don't expect me to do it quickly."

Bang.

She effectively silenced him and he took another sip while watching her still with her eyes set on the iron. Stray hairs had managed to escape her ponytail and he watched her try to make a small amount of effort to brush them away to no avail. Her fingers wrapped around the hammer once more.

"What was it like," He was surprised that the she inquired so casually but he tried not to let it show, lest he scare her away like he'd done so many times before. "Seeing her again? I know it isn't any of my business but…"

Bang.

She tried to fill the next few moments between them with the sound of her hammer hitting iron. He couldn't help but think of how the sound seemed to be so empty, as if it was filling up no silence at all. She looked up from her work and the expression on her face told him she was waiting for his answer.

"Weird." He admitted after letting out an awkward cough. "I remember preparing several speeches. Some about how I'm incredibly angry that she ever decided to leave me and others about how I'd always end up forgiving her anyway."

There was a sharp intake of breath on her part.

Bang.

"Yeah? What'd she say?"

"I didn't say any of it actually," He took another sip and she looked him straight in the eye when he continued. "She's going to get married again soon. Ironically, it's to a man I introduced her to. It showed me that any stupid speech I've prepared about the whole ordeal is as in the past as our relationship."

He didn't tell her that he thought he'd be angry about it all for the rest of his life. He didn't tell her that he'd thought that there was an off chance that either of them (or both if they were truly lucky) could still be in love with each other. He didn't tell her about the relief he felt when he figured out that neither of them were.

She already knew it all.

There's no bang this time.

"What did the two of you talk about then?"

He shrugged. "She told me that she was happy and that I should be too." They both smiled a bit at the idea of someone thinking that it was that easy for him to just feel something that he hadn't felt in so long. "I said my ever so polite thank you and joked that I already had a Happy in my life."

The double meaning of the joke caused her to raise her eyebrows and he grinned before drinking. They were both unsure of what to say next but she didn't pick up her hammer to fill the silence this time. All of her focus was on him and he dreaded the moment he had to lose it.

They turned to her phone when it began to vibrate on her bench. He saw Chet's name and he frowned slightly. They both just continued to stare at it, however, and she waited it out until the vibration stopped and the phone told her she had a missed call. His eyes made their way back to her.

"I'm jealous of her but not for the reason that you're thinking." She kept her eyes trained on the phone, hoping that if she didn't see his eyes bearing into her, it would make things easier to say. "She can come here months later and talk to you about your relationship. You're my best friend and I see you every single day and I still can't talk to you as easily as she does."

His heart sank a bit with the mention of them just being friends but he hid it expertly. "You can talk to me whenever you want, you know?" He said it gently, once again afraid that he would scare her off. Her eyes went to their dollhouse nearby and the light flickered over head. She made a comment about fixing it and he felt her drift away slowly.

"I better get going," He continued when she didn't look back at him. "I have too much nothing to do at home."

A small smile appeared on her face and she returned to her work. His feet had already led him halfway to the door when he had a lapse in judgment and turned back to her. She looked up at him, slightly surprised but with an expectant expression on her face.

"Just so you know, Happy," He said without any shame whatsoever. "You're the only who's ever made me feel your namesake. I've always loved you more."

She only remembered to breathe when the door shut behind him. Her hammer somehow ended up on the other side of the room and she buried her head in her hands. There were no tears, only swears said under her breath. The fear was consuming her and regardless of whatever it was that she wanted to say, she was too afraid of getting torn apart again.

"Why you?" She breathed heavily, feeling the urge to tear the whole Garage apart. She never expected to be loved by anyone, especially not by him. To her, he was the pervert that sometimes slept around and gambled day and night. Yet, he had chosen to be someone better because he loved her.

It terrified her that someone was willing to be something better for her.

She stared at the list of missed calls on her screen, eyes flickering to Chet's name for only a moment. She shakily reached out for her phone and dialed the number straight away, no hesitation whatsoever. It was almost ten but it didn't really matter anymore.

"Hello? Are you busy? I was hoping I could swing by and we could have dinner tonight. Yeah, I'm pretty aware it is way too late for dinner. Okay, great. I'll see you in a bit."

And for a moment, she almost felt at peace.


	3. Baby Steps for Adults

**All because I want to see more interaction between them. I'll try to post the last part of this as soon as I can, especially since I'm on break at the moment. Also, I apologise for any errors I've made because I'm sick and I honestly can't be bothered to read this right now. Please review so I can get some feedback on this, cool cool.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Scorpion in any way, shape or form.**

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She squished her hands between her thighs as she waited for the waitress to bring their food over to the tiny booth in the corner of the diner. It was a spot hidden from prying eyes and just being there made her feel as if all the problems which plagued her life were dust particles floating around in the air.

"Do you wanna hear a joke?"

She made a face at her father and a smile bloomed on his face. It felt so new, so different, to know that she really did matter to the man who owned the red truck with the dented fender. She smiled back despite herself and it urged him to continue.

"I had a dream I was a muffler last night." She could feel the corny punchline coming but she continued to smile at him all the same. He looked so contented having her around, as if his dad jokes could make the past 27 years alright; and momentarily, the hypothesis seemed to be correct.

"I woke up exhausted."

She hid her mouth behind her hands, trying hard to hide the even larger smile that was creeping up onto her face. He laughed while shaking his head at his attempt at making her laugh and all he could think about was how he never imagined that being around his daughter would feel as terrific as it did then.

From where she was sitting, she could see the waitress approaching with their food and she set her hands back down on the table in front of her. When her double cheeseburger, fries and Pepsi were set in front of her, she couldn't help but feel the tad bit of excitement she always did around large portions of food.

Her dad laughed once more at the sight of her shoving three fries into her mouth. She smiled, not shyly, after swallowing and returned to her food. It was comfortable, being around him like that. She thought it would be terrifying at first, but it felt a lot like home from where she was sitting.

"You always used to have a big appetite."

His reminiscent words made her look up from her food and she watched him take a bite of his grilled cheese sandwich. The smile no longer appeared on her lips but he could still find traces of it in her eyes, like raindrops on a car window.

She put her half-eaten cheeseburger down and looked at her hands on her lap, suddenly getting slightly shy. She was sure that he was observing her but it took time for her brain to figure out the words that needed to come out. Like she'd told Toby, it was hard just saying things straight.

"Can I ask you something?"

He made a gesture while chewing, as if saying, "Shoot." A sigh escaped her lips and it took her a moment to figure out what exactly she wanted to say. There were so many questions floating around in her head but it was getting increasingly difficult to piece them together into actual sentences.

"Do you remember that time during Christmas Eve when…" The question trailed off and he nodded, an encouraging smile appearing across his face, urging her on gently. "I know it must have been terrifying for you to tell me all of that. Hell, I was terrified just hearing it."

She laughed nonchalantly and she began to toy with the fries on her plate. "How did you just decide to take that risk," Asking him scared her to death but at the same time, it felt so right just asking him for advice. "Knowing full well that you might lose me?"

A silence aired over them as he gave his answer a bit of thought. She listened to the cook calling for a waitress and the woman in the booth beside them crying to her best friend about how her boyfriend had cheated on her. It was the closest thing to peaceful that she could get at that very moment.

"Well," He began, a hand running over his beard. "I wasn't sure if you were angry or scared or what. I walked into that situation pretty blindly but I thought to myself, 'If I don't tell my daughter now that I've never stopped loving her, then there's a good chance that I may never have the courage to tell her that.'"

She swallowed thoughtfully and he continued. "I was scared that my track record of being the absent father was too much," He pursed his lips as if apologizing once again for what he had done to her. "But I didn't want to be afraid of becoming the father that you need; not anymore."

She expected for the words he said to be too much for her to handle. She expected that she would want to run away or just end the conversation with a sarcastic comment; but she didn't do it. She had become a wave crashing onto the shore, finding its purpose and peace in the intensity.

She felt the question building up inside of her but she was finding it increasingly more difficult to voice it out loud. What set the two of them apart was the fact that he knew how to be human and she didn't. He was watching her take a new set of baby steps: towards being okay again.

"I need you tell me how to stop," The words came out in a rush and he had to learn forward slightly to hear her better. "Being so damn afraid of getting close to everyone around me. There are risks I'm willing to make that I can't take the first step towards and I'm sick of it."

"Where's all of this coming from?"

She bit her lip and laced her fingers together while trying to think of what to say. Every cell in her body screamed at her to be honest about the whole situation but it seemed so odd to say it out loud. It seemed as if the mere fact that he was her father made the entire topic slightly taboo.

"It's about a guy."

"Oh." His eyes widened slightly and she almost found it amusing. He nodded again, thoughtfully this time, while staring at his daughter. She wondered for a moment how it felt for him to see his child all grown up and ready to talk about such things. "Oh."

"It's just that I don't understand how any of this works." She said, her brows furrowing together slightly. The words brought him back down to earth. "I never expected any of this to happen and if either of us makes one wrong move, I'm going to regret this for the rest of my life and I don't think I can take that."

He thought for a moment with his lips pursed together tightly. The look he got when a crazy idea somehow reminded her of the face she was whenever she looked in the mirror. It was oddly comforting to see a resemblance of features, almost as if reassuring her that this was the man she'd been looking for.

"Your mom," He began and she tensed instantly. They had never talked about her before, not counting that one small mention he made at Christmas Eve. It seemed to be far too sensitive a topic for them to talk about regularly. "She was amazing, beautiful, and intelligent too. I couldn't deal with it when she…"

There was a silence between them once again and she turned his words over in her head. In the back of her mind, she imagined the woman she'd seen in the pictures do the most mundane of things: doing the dishes, walking around the town, holding her father's hand. It didn't fill the void that she'd left inside her but it was a start.

"The only thing I will ever regret, though, is leaving you at that orphanage." The tone of his voice was melancholy and he couldn't bring himself to look at her. "If I had a chance to do it all again, I would still support your mother's decision even after the doctor told us she could die. We both loved—love you too much."

It was forty five minutes to midnight but she felt more awake than she had all day. She was far too bad with words to know what to say next so she sat there waiting, anticipating the words that would flow from her father's mouth. She stared at the cheeseburger on her plate and let him collect himself.

"I don't want you to make that mistake. I don't want you making decisions just 'cause you're scared or because you think what you have is good enough. If you never even move the wrench, don't expect the bolt to ever tighten."

She smiled a bit at his metaphor and found the heart to take a bite of her food again. All she could remember was the Doc's advice months before about how living a life scared to connect to anyone wasn't a way to live. She thought of the risks he had made with her and how it was high time that she made some too.

"Now, it's my turn to ask a question."

The words were unexpected but she made a gesture, telling him to go on with it.

"This guy you're talking about, he's the one who helped me save you, isn't he?"

She felt almost ashamed at how easy it was to read her in that moment. It didn't take a Harvard trained behaviorist to tell her that the absence of her instant tensing was a sign that she was growing more open to the idea. She couldn't tell whether or not it felt good or bad. All she knew was that she felt it.

"Yup, I'm wasting my time on a crazy shrink."


	4. Spontaneous Human Combustion

**I am so happy with how this turned out, as in I am prouder of this than a lot of stuff I've written recently. I hope that you guys enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. I've already got another plot bunny stuck in my head so you will probably see me write a oneshot about these two soon enough. Please review because feedback is and always will be appreciated.**

 **Disclaimer: I don't own Scorpion in any way, shape or form.**

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For fifteen minutes, she stood there with her feet practically glued to the floor. She reassembled the flashlight she used as a keychain for her car keys and continuously put up her hair and pulled off the elastic in a fruitless attempt to keep her hands busy.

There were very few times in her life wherein she found herself hesitating but in each of these events, she just could not help herself. Everything that was going to happen next was a mere series of decisions that she needed to make. The simplicity of it all contributed to the situation's pure complexity.

As she lifted her hand up to knock on his front door, she wondered about spontaneous human combustion. Regardless of the likelihood of the phenomenon, she almost believed it to be real in that moment. It felt as if someone was holding a match to each cell in her body, oh so close but not enough to set her on fire.

He wore the same clothes that he did when they'd last spoke and she could spot another half empty bottle of beer set on top of the coffee table. She'd been slightly afraid that the fact that it was one in the morning meant that he was asleep but she knew that just like her, his brain was far too busy thinking to shut down.

She expected him to look surprised but he didn't. He looked tired, the human embodiment of the word itself. On second glance at the coffee table, she saw the small wad of cash that he probably earned from a card table somewhere. It was a routine when he couldn't handle things anymore and for once, she understood.

"What are you doing here?" He ran a hand over his face and a quick apology made its way past her lips. She almost took the flight route of her response but her feet couldn't make her move anywhere. His expression softened, as if telling her that she did absolutely nothing wrong. He moved aside to let her in and she willed her feet to enter his small studio apartment.

It was dark, dingy and dusty and it smelled of strangely pleasant musky cologne. He closed the door behind them and went to stand by his couch. They listened to his TV go on and on about how a rerun of some cancelled sitcom was about to begin. He stared at her and she stared at her feet.

"What's up, Hap?" His voice was far gentler than it was last time around and there was something about his tone that made her take one small step closer.

"I spoke to someone earlier," Her voice was soft as she clasped her hands together tightly. "And he gave me some of the best advice I've ever heard in a while. He told me that I can't expect anything to happen if I'm not ready to even try doing something about it."

Another baby step closer.

"He was right, Toby." His name fell off her lips like a prayer, asking him to understand the things that she needed to say. "It's stupid of me to expect you to understand if I don't say it. That's not the way this works." And she was sorry that it took so long for her to figure that out.

One more baby step.

They were quiet as the rerun began to play in the background. She listened as a studio audience laughed loudly and she was glad that he didn't make an effort to turn the TV off. The white noise stalled her words just long enough for her to fix the jumbled words into sentences that she deemed good enough to say out loud.

"I don' think you understand how difficult today was for me." His brows furrowed together at her words and she let out a sigh. "Seeing you with Belle was a lot more difficult than I thought it would be. I thought I was past the point of being affected."

She thought a lot of things and regardless of her genius status, a lot of them were wrong.

"I've been torturing you," The confession doubled as a plea, a silent request for forgiveness. "And I've been doing it because I wanted you to just give up. I've been too scared these days to deserve you and I thought that if I pretended to be disinterested enough, you would eventually just want less from me."

The words were getting more and more difficult to say and she suddenly became aware of the fact that he wasn't moving. He didn't shift his feet or toy with his hands. He stood completely and perfectly still, listening to words he didn't expect to hear from her.

One last step.

"But I don't want to give you less than what you deserve, Doc."

She looked him straight in the eyes but his face would give nothing away. She liked to call it his shrink face. It was the expression he had whenever he wanted people to believe that he was an empty shell of a human being that was there to just listen.

"A long time ago, you and Belle almost gave everything that you were to each other. Today, I was scared that you were ready to do it all again. It showed me that you've already given me whatever the hell you can manage to give. It's about damn time that I woman up and do the same."

It was like her father had told her. She wanted everything that Toby had to offer her but more importantly, she wanted to give him everything that she had to offer. It could never be a one way concept and it was about time that she understood.

He reached down to get the remote and he muted the TV. Silence filled the room as he returned to staring at her once more and it killed her not to know what the hell was going on in his mind. The stillness of the situation wasn't as calming as she thought it would be.

Then there was one big step forward.

She'd always underestimated what he deemed to be his "sexual and sensual charisma" but as his fingers played up her arm and his other hand cupped her cheek, she began to understand that he was right. He looked down at her and the way he took control of the entire situation almost made her dizzy.

She felt his eyes search her face and she tried to stand her ground by looking him straight in the eyes; but with each passing moment, it felt almost as if the air in her lungs was being sucked away. She couldn't help but to look away shyly and a smile finally appeared on his face. "Doc, you're killing me here." A laugh escaped his lips and his eyes finally travelled to her own.

The way his lips brushed against her own was so tentative, a test of the waters. The match pressed against her and all her cells ignited in the most beautiful way she could possibly imagine. She pushed him closer to her as a way of saying that it was alright and he kissed her in a way that they were both reminded of the first time it had happened in the Garage.

She kept her eyes closed and watched the light of the TV dance behind her eyes as he leaned his forehead against hers. He placed gentle kisses on her forehead, eyelids, lips and cheeks, savouring the fact that they had finally arrived at what he felt to be their intended destination.

She placed one last peck on his lips before letting her arms circle his waist.

* * *

After many strange stories ("Oh come on, you can't be serious." "I am! She literally spelled out 'Screw you,' in my alphabet soup when I was ten during a mood swing." "Oh, dear God.") And long awaited kisses later, she found herself lying in the crook of his arm, fingers laced and legs tangled together.

They were watching more sitcom reruns and an air of contentment washed over them both. He would make occasional wisecracks and she would elbow him in the stomach but each and every time, she could feel each wall tearing itself down.

"I suppose it would be a bad time to ask if this means you've forgiven me for sleeping through our date."

She shrugged and brought his hand to her lips. "I don't know yet; but if we're considering this our first real date, I guess we can say you didn't mess this one up."


End file.
